


Ground Zero

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aged-Up Peter Parker, M/M, Minor Violence, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21905722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tony and Peter survive alone for years until they stumble into each other in an abandoned supermarket.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 66





	Ground Zero

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



  
Most people had a fractured idea about how the world would end. Poets believed it would end in ice or fire, the religious believed in Judgement Day or Shambhala, and scientists believed volcanic structures would burst decimating humankind as we know it. None of them really considered that the dead would come and wipe out half the population. Sure, there were a lot of movies about it from bigwig directors that knew as much about the dead as a middle schooler but nobody really expected it save for doomsday conspiracists.

Personally, Tony had been on the side that robots and AI would have eventually enslaved humankind but that sure as hell wasn’t the case. For a tech genius, he felt pretty dumb when he woke up in his lab to urgent warnings all along a holographic projection of the Earth and the thousands of major cities therein. Whatever was happening, it was occurring globally.  


Without needing to be asked, JARVIS pulled up live feeds of a local news report from Japan. A woman dressed to impress in a garish blue dress suit was talking and glancing over her shoulder every other minute. Her eyes were wide but unseeing and there was a visible tremble to her hand.

“ _My name is Suzuki Cho, I’m here in Okinawa Prefecture in- in Japan._ ” The subtitles ran in yellow on white near the precise time she spoke thanks in part to JARVIS’s universal language translating software. Tony wasn’t familiar with Japanese but he could hear her stutter and stumble on her words. “ _There’s been an attack- a virus, it’s infecting people and-_ ” She screamed like a wounded animal as something ran into the frame and chased her from the camera. It looked like a person, it was wearing people clothing but its face was torn up and sagging.

Another report came in, this time from Brazil. It featured in front of a supermarket in the heart of the country. “ _An outbreak occurred late this afternoon, we’ve had reports from all over of attacks-_ ” The male Brazilian reporter stopped and turned around as a person stalked towards them dragging their feet. “ _Sir, are you alright? Can I help you?_ ” The reporter put a steady hand on the drooping shoulder of his counterpart and the guy shot out, grasping his arm and biting down on it. A burst of red and screams were all he heard before the camera went to black.

“JARVIS run interference for any attacks in the States.” Tony forced his voice steady but he was reeling from what little he’d seen. Humans were attacking other humans. It sounded like something straight out of a George Romero zombie movie.

“Sir, over three hundred incidents of human on human violence have been reported in the last four hours.” JARVIS says, pulling report after report up. He flicked through most of them, the main thing they had in common was that soon after being bitten, the victim became violent and… hungry.

“Any news reports in Manhattan?” He asked, holding his breath as three separate broadcasts started playing.

JARVIS filtered out the screams but the streets were awash in seas of blood and they burned into his retinas. He could see military trucks in the background and men and women in hazmat suits stepping out alongside those in full riot gear. A valiant attempt was being made to combat the clearly ill humans but it didn’t work. Where one soldier would warn them, another would simply shoot them when they didn’t listen but they kept coming.

Contrary to public belief, Tony wasn’t completely ignorant. He knew exactly what was happening the moment that one of the ill ones took a big ol’ chomp out of another. Zombies, the undead, walkers, la morte. There were many names for them and yet Tony couldn’t quite believe it was happening now. What had brought it all on? 

He wasn’t an epidemiologist. It wasn’t like he knew how to reverse this and for the first time, he really wished he had gone back to school to pursue a career in line with that. Maybe he could have helped prevent the outright spread of the disease afflicting the undead.

His father Howard Stark was many things, a genius and visionary that was ahead of his time, and an over glorified asshole but he was also the kind of guy who invested. See little Howie Mandel lived through the Cold War. Ergo, he made himself, and in extension, Tony and Maria an underground bunker capable of holding up against a nuclear blast equivalent of 20,000 kilotons of TNT.

The bunker was sat 50ft underground with 15 luxury apartments that could theoretically sustain a total of 30 people. It had fully working and secure internet, a common area with a 15-seat movie theatre and decontamination showers. Tony had the idea as a last-resort option where the apocalypse was concerned.

Twenty-nine people went in along with him and he was the only one left alive. Similar to a modern day Rapunzel, he locked himself and twenty-nine others underground. Families had been down here once, children laughing and playing unknowing of the horrors outside the bunker. 

Then, as tends to happen within confined spaces, dissent stirred and they left the safety and sanctuary of the home he’d made them. Pepper was the last to leave and he hadn’t seen her again. After that, he couldn’t even think about letting another group in, or letting more in close to his heart.

—

The apocalypse started ten years ago, Tony knew this because he worked hard on keeping the internet up. Sometimes it malfunctioned but mostly it was up and working. In his spare time, he created. He designed and built guns, weapons capable of mass destruction, and zombie resistant armor. It was mostly just a suit but it covered him from head to toe. This ensured his survival but weapons weren’t everything.

Tony still had to go out and make supply runs, sometimes for days on end. The food in the bunker had long since run out and the old abandoned shops around him were his best shot at finding something to sate the dull ache in his stomach. 

As he soon came to find out, these days, the survivors were the ones you had to look out for. While you could take the undead out with melee weapons like pocket knives and a side sweep of their legs, survivors were more dodgy and adaptable. The one fight he’d had with one ended in a situation he wished he could have avoided. It was between a woman and her husband, and it ended with both of them dead in the streets. 

All he had wanted was to avoid them completely but they had taken it upon themselves to try to steal everything he had on him, even the dog tags that belonged to Rhodey. This new world felt brutal and twisted.

—

One day, during a supply run, he saw a grocery store standing tall and foreboding in the distance. The sun hit it just right so that he could make out the busted windows and glass on the pavement in front of what had been the doors. 

Maybe there was left over food there. He’d take even dog food at this rate, anything that was still edible.

He walked with difficulty along broken street signs and cars that looked like they’d met their fates with either the undead or collisions with other desperate drivers. The mechanic in him itched to get his hands on what would undeniably be rusty motors and bring them back to life but his stomach pains kept him walking in the direction of the store. 

The closer he got, the more details he could make out. There were shelves in the store that looked like they were completely empty but that was just the front. He held out a small measure of hope that it would be different in other parts of the store.

He walked around the bloodied glass, the soles of his shoes were worn thin and he didn’t want to risk getting infected in the lamest way possible. In a bygone era, this place would be busy with shoppers trying to find the next greatest coupon deal but now it was empty. It’s previous use seemed so long ago and so futile. Carts were broken apart on the shiny linoleum, bags everywhere and the freezers were entirely empty. He figured those had gone during the initial outbreak.

Tony created a quick mental tally of what could go wrong. An undead could surprise attack him from around the corner of the refrigerating shelving units, there could be survivors ready to bomb rush him, or it could be a trap. 

He edged around a few units and strained his hearing. His breathing slowed until all he could focus on was the death rattle of the undead in the distance. It was close but not close enough to tell which aisle they were ambling down. 

He went down the soup aisle. It was completely bare save for some mushroom soup. He took two of the cans and put them in his bag. That was dinner for at least four days. If he rationed more, he could make it a whole week on just those cans. Tony didn’t need to face the undead. He didn’t even need to kill it but he continued down the aisle. 

It took him out near where the deli aisle was and he finally saw it. The undead had eyes that were ready to fall out, skin blackened from the New York sun, and rotten teeth. It’s red hair hung in long clumps and judging from the red uniform, it must have been a store employee at some point.

The undead must have heard him because it looked at him in a way that sent chills through his bones. He could imagine that this was the way Pepper might have looked if she—

A brief zoom of brown raced in front of him and slammed into the undead with a long steel baseball bat. The connecting blow sounded like a large fruit exploding. The undead fell like a bag of bricks and its brains splashed over the rotten meat display.

He hadn’t needed saving, he told himself. Just because he was having a smallish vision of his maybe dead ex-girlfriend mid-undead attack didn’t mean a thing. The figure in front of him had his back turned to him, it was another survivor but from the softness of his face, he couldn’t be more than seventeen. How were there still teens roaming around out here?

"Kid,“ He called raspily, he hasn’t used his voice in what felt like weeks and his mouth was bone dry.

The kid straightened up and turned fast enough that he was amazed he didn’t give himself whiplash. He had sweet brown ringlets that fell in a halo around his unwashed face. His wide eyes were brown and bloodshot probably from not sleeping well. In all other regards, he was gorgeous, especially in such circumstances.

"Who are you?” He asked in a squeaky voice.

"Tony.” He rubbed the back of his neck and then purposefully walked forward, schooling his face into something serious. “Don’t you have a group? What about your parents?” He asked shortly. It wasn’t safe out here on your own, Tony knew that better than some.

"Group? Parents? My parents died and I haven’t been in a group since high school AP chem class.“ The kid snapped back with narrowed eyes that did nothing to take away from his natural beauty.

"You don’t have friends? How the hell are you still alive?” Tony asked without thinking better of it. It had to have been at least ten years since the apocalypse began, or else it felt that way. These days, it was kind of hard to keep track of time.

"Why?“ He jutted his chin up defiantly and glanced toward the doors as if thinking of making a grand escape. "What’s it to you?”

"What’s it to me— okay, look, if you don’t want my help you can just say so.“ Tony turned as dignified as one could and started back down the soup aisle. He could’ve sworn that there were more cans somewhere… 

Footsteps sounded behind him but he didn’t mind. He had himself a little shadow it looked like. 

They both gathered quietly from the store without further conversation and when they left, Tony finally turned to him. "Listen, if you’re going to be stalking me like this is a _Zombieland_ reboot where you’re a lame teen and I’m an even lamer adult, you better listen up and listen close. I don’t have time to dilly dally with a kid, that means walk right without slouching. Capiche?”

The teen straightened and rolled his pants up so that they weren’t dragging against the ground like a constant echo alarm to any of the thousands of zombies near them. He turned on a pair of puppy eyes and a nervous smile. Tony rolled his eyes at him, he wasn’t going to congratulate him for doing as he was told.

“Right. Okay, kid, stick close and don’t be dumb.” He said finally.

They walked side-by-side for the most part and drifted through towns together, taking on the undead and survivors alike. Tony wasn’t afraid to admit they made a good team. Even better, as time went on, they grew closer.

Eventually, they made it back to the bunker and Tony smugly watched as the kid gaped and acted like Christmas had come early for him. Peter darted down the stairs of the bunker (there were lots of them, how did the kid have that kind of stamina, jeesh) and Tony met him down there after five minutes. Yeah, he was getting old.

"Tony, this is _incredible!_ ” Peter exclaimed, not even sure where to start at seeing _technology_ again.

"Sure, kid. You can have your own room, there are fourteen functioning—"

"Tony, Tony, look! A coffee machine!“ Peter hugged the little chrome black thing tight and turned a faucet on. Water flowed out quick and the kid stuck his whole head under it. 

Tony snorted and followed him over, snapping the faucet off. "Why don’t you take a shower, I’m sure there’s clothes around here for you somewhere.” A lot of the past survivors that lived here had left clothing behind.

"A shower? With warm water?“ Peter had a faraway look in his eyes and Tony guided him through the common room to the shower area.

Peter’s clothes were near glued to him and they ended up pulling chunks that had melted into his flesh off of him. He didn’t want to think about how bloodied and swollen Peter’s feet had been once the converse came off. Now those had really been glued on, so much that he’d had to cut them off of him while Peter stared teary-eyed.

There was nothing sexual about seeing the kid without his boxers on- though he was hung- and helping him clean himself. It was just something normal.

Tony soaped up Peter’s hair, combing through his greasy and dirt covered locks. The water between them ran a grainy red and brown until it eventually went clear. Peter’s tanned body was clean and any dirt was gone.

Tony helped him dry off and bandaged his feet for him. Peter said nothing, just stared at the marble around them.

"You must have got pretty lonely down here, Mr. Stark.” He says once they retire to one of the apartments that held an electric fireplace. It gave off plenty of heat but Peter’s assumption struck him cold.

“I found blankets in a bedroom.” Peter says when Tony doesn’t respond, laying two down on the floor in front of the fireplace and left one big one off to the side. 

“Nice find, Lara Croft.” Tony says in a dry tone.

He opened one can of labeless soup and spooned some into his mouth. “You think you might want to stick around here, at least for a little while?”

Peter sighed with a wide smile on his face, “ Finally, we’ve been walking for months, Mr. Stark. My feet are legit killing me.” He knocked his feet against the floor and Tony took them into his lap. He rubbed his fingers deep into the calloused points of his toes and watched Peter. The kid’s head fell back and his chest rose with each breath he took, his mouth was open slightly and music poured out. By music, he meant soft, sweet moans that made his cock twitch.

“Peter,” His voice was low and gravely to his own ears and strained. “Don’t make noises like that when my hands are on you.”

Peter lifted his head, his eyes and lips were set into a lilt with a mischievous shine, “Don’t make noises like what?” He asked sotto-voce.

"You know exactly what I mean.“ Tony met his eyes and was caught off guard by the dark intensity the kid was watching him with. The air between them buzzed with electricity and his cock gave another twitch.

"Think I might need you to show me.” Peter pulled his feet from his lap and crawled on hands and knees to him. “ _Mr. Stark.”_

Tony erased the final distance and helped him into his lap. His impatient hands went straight to Peter’s ass and he squeezed his perfect bubble butt. Their lips soon greeted each other with tiny pecks that quickly turned feverish. After years without sex or touch, Tony wanted to take this slow.

He slid his hands into Peter’s pants, feeling over soft skin and spreading his firm ass. A responding moan came from the kid and Tony devoured it. They crashed against the concrete floor and spent hours taking each other apart.

When morning came, they shared soft, sugar sweet kisses and fucked again. After that, Tony’s muscles were loosened up and he felt better than he had in years. All of the knots and aches in his back and legs were gone, a fluttery sensation in his stomach having replaced it.

He felt at home with Peter. The undead, survivors, judgement day, and dictating ai be damned. If he could keep having this guy at his side, he’d go through all of them to keep him safe.


End file.
